


Love Will Make Us

by hopelessbookgeek



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: (sort of), Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - GTA, F/M, Fake AH Crew, Fluff, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-20 02:21:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2411438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopelessbookgeek/pseuds/hopelessbookgeek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray's an incoming freshman rooming with lonely junior Ryan Haywood. After Ryan introduces Ray to the rest of his friends, he starts to think something odd is going on... What's the "Fake AH Crew" he keeps hearing rumors about and are they truly responsible for everything that starts going down on campus? And more important, holy shit, is Ray falling for Ryan? Primarily a college AU with a touch of GTA and a whole lot of R&R Connection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Microwaves and Emails

**Author's Note:**

> I like AUs, I like procrastination, let's do this shit. Never done a college AU before... please, feedback is very appreciated!

Mom dropped me off right outside the gates, saying that she was sorry to leave me and run but she had to get back to work. She kissed me goodbye, told me to call as often as I could, told me how proud she was of me and how she knew I’d be fine. The usual college shit, I guess. I probably would have been fine, because I’d spent all summer worrying to the point where apathy was all that was left, except for the fact that my brother, who had graduated here last year, insisted on coming along to spend the whole car trip to tell me exactly what to expect.

He clapped me on the back as we looked up at the heavy iron gates with the school’s name on it. “Ray,” he said with a familiar smile on his face, the smile that always meant trouble was coming, “welcome to Hell.”

*****

Now let me tell you the most goddamn amazing thing I’ve ever heard: a four-story building with no elevators. And best of all, a dorm building! The entire purpose of a dorm building is for people to live there, people who probably own shit that they have to keep in suitcases that they then have to drag up three flights on stairs because holy shit, the person who designed this building hates college students.

I was on the third floor, which, you know. Could be worse. I guess I should have been thankful that I’d gotten a double; most freshmen end up in triples, I’d heard, but nope, just one other roommate. Didn’t even know his name because they never told me, because why would anyone want to talk to their roommate before getting to school, if only to negotiate about the possibility of a microwave.

I did bring a microwave, because damn if I was going to be microwave-less all year and I couldn’t risk my roommate not bringing one, as well as some shitty cheap TV and my Xbox, because, well, I didn’t need a reason. I liked my Xbox. Funny, I complained so much about dragging my shit upstairs, but I didn’t bring all that much. At least, not much that wasn’t electronic. I could wear the same two pairs of jeans and like six shirts for the semester, right?

I didn’t bother unpacking or making my bed or any of that adult shit. I’d have time for that later. After so many fucking hours in the car, I didn’t want to do anything except play Halo. Well, maybe sleep, but that could probably wait too. My sleep schedule didn’t really allow me to fall asleep at three in the afternoon, at least not for more than an hour. And a nap would just make me feel worse.

As I waited for the game to load, I thought about what my brother said before he dropped me off. Why was I in Hell? The elevators thing? Cause that was bad, but not, like… eternal punishment bad. So far. I guess I’d have to decide on that after a few weeks. Maybe it was because it was because it was a private school and I had required religion classes? We were technically Catholic (stereotypical Hispanics all the way) but didn’t go to church or anything. Was it that bad? Probably not, unless it was legit on Sunday. Weekends were “stay up until dawn gaming and sleep til four in the afternoon” days. Jesus has no place there, unless he wants multiplayer. 

When Halo was finished loading, five fucking years later, I stopped thinking about classes and church and started thinking “fuck yes, let’s blow shit up”. I was so into it that I didn’t hear the key clicking in the lock, so when a guy showed up in the doorway I dropped my controller and almost screamed. (I said almost. I’m not a complete bitch.)

“Christ, you scared me. Uh, hi. Are you my roommate?”

“Oh, um, yes. Ryan Haywood.” He held out his hand and after a second’s hesitation I shook it. I didn’t think people under forty actually shook hands anymore. “You’re Ray, I guess.”

“What? How do you know my name when they didn’t tell me yours?” Injustice, I tell you. I hoped he didn’t bring a microwave.

“I picked you as a roommate… You didn’t get my email?”

Oh, right, I had an email. I checked my normal email pretty regularly but I forgot I gave the college my high school-assigned email address, because I doubted they’d like sending out emails to skeletonboners69@hotmail.com. Same email address since eighth grade, baby. The “skeleton = bones = boners” joke was funny then and it was funny now. “I… may not have checked. Was it important?”

He dropped his suitcase and rubbed the back of his neck. I felt bad, he looked really worried, and all because I hadn’t checked my email. “Listen, sorry. I forgot.”

“For two months?”

“…Yes.” He had a really intense stare. Maybe it was because his eyes were crazy bright blue. “Sorry, man. What’s up?”

He sighed. “Well, I’m a junior, not a freshman. They don’t usually pair upperclassmen with underclassmen, but there are certain… mitigating circumstances.” His face was really red, I felt worse for making him explain shit to me face-to-face.

“Hey, dude, if you don’t want to talk about it right now, I’m not gonna make you. It’s cool.” I picked up my dropped controller. Thank God it had paused, or I’d have been dead ten times over by now.

“You sure? It’s kind of important…”

“I mean, if it’s not life-threatening, it can wait until you feel, like, ready to tell me in person. Or I could check my email. If I can remember the password…”

“Ah, I’ll tell you later, then. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

I went back to Halo, he went back to unpacking, and before I’d even completed the mission he was done. Looked like he’d brought even less than I did, although he had a lot of books. I guess he’d need to, if he was a junior. He looked down at his phone. “Hm. The dining hall doesn’t open for another two hours but I’m starving. Want me to grab a pizza or something?”

“Yeah, sure.” Never gonna turn down pizza. I turned the game off. “Lemme just find my shoes…”

“Oh, you’re gonna come out with me?” He looked surprised and a little… I mean, not really scared, but something in that general ballpark. Nervous, maybe.

“That a problem? Bro date, man, c’mon. A tradition old as time itself. Or maybe as old as beer.” Not that I drank. Just didn’t like it. I got shitfaced once and ended up blacking out in a pool of my own vomit. Gross as hell. The beer and the vomit.

Ryan didn’t try to tell me not to come, but as he pocketed his keys he still looked a little worried. “Fun fact about beer. A few thousand years ago, when the central Europeans and central Asians were both faced with the obstacle of unclean water, the Asians boiled it to make tea and the Europeans added things and let it ferment, making alcohol.”

“Huh. That’s wild. How do you know that?”

“Just like history.”

“Is that what you’re studying?”

“Sort of.” We got off campus and took a right, heading for what passed as “downtown” here. He didn’t explain further, so I asked.

“How do you ‘sort of’ study something?”

“Well, I’m studying history tangentially. Primarily I’m studying literature and poetry. I’m looking at what poetry can tell us about history; the things we value, the things we think worthy of being written down, the parts of our history we want to record faithfully and the parts we want to embellish.” He turned red again. “Sorry, people don’t usually want to hear about all this.”

“Oh, I don’t care. It’s cool. I mean, I’m not gonna edit your papers or anything but it’s fine that you’re talking about it.”

The pizza place was called (of course) Tony’s, and it smelled goddamn amazing. Pretty cheap, too, which was good because I was broke. While we waited for the pizzas to be ready, Ryan turned to me. “So what about you? What are you studying?”

“Oh, fuck if I know. Something to do with computer science, probably. Might go into game design.”

“Oh, nice. You’d get along with my friend Geoff, he’s studying computer animation. I’m impressed you’re an incoming freshman who already knows what he wants to do after graduation.” He raised his Coke to me in a sort of toast.

“Really? Cause I don’t have a solid idea and boy does high school make you feel like you need to.”

“No one does. You’re, what, eighteen? Who can decide what they want to do for the rest of their life at eighteen? I’m twice that and I don’t know.”

I choked on my RedBull. “You’re what? You’re fucking thirty-six?” I mean, he looked good as hell for thirty-six, but what the fuck?

“What? No! Oh, fuck. I meant I have two years on you. Sorry. Words are hard sometimes.”

“You almost gave me a fucking heart attack. Christ, Ryan. Don’t scare me like that again.” By then the pizzas were ready, so instead of talking more about how Ryan’s brain is pretty much independent from his mouth, I just stuffed my own mouth with hot pepperoni. Oh, yeah. That’s the stuff.

Ryan ate with more grace than I did– who did he think he was, the queen?– but still with impressive speed. Not as fast as I ate, obviously because no one ate faster than I did, but still pretty fast.

“You probably have orientation stuff tomorrow,” he said as we walked back to campus, “but if you want, I can introduce you to my friends at lunch. They’re all pretty into gaming too, you’d get along with them.”

I was quiet for a minute, because I didn’t get along with that many people and was pretty introverted. “Yeah, why not,” I said finally. “Multiplayer’s fun every once in a while, and Jesus probably won’t show up to help.”

“What?”

“Never mind.” We small-talked, I guess you’d call it, all the way back to our dorm, though I had to shut up on the stairs because I was too out of breath for conversation. As soon as we got to our door, Ryan started to look uncomfortable again.

“I guess we should talk, then,” he said, and I kicked off my shoes to spread out on my sheet-less bed.

“I told you, if you don’t want to talk about it–”

“You’d find out soon anyway, it’s better it comes from me, and the sooner you know the sooner you can switch rooms, if you want.”

If I wanted to switch rooms? Oh, God, please don’t let him have been arrested for killing his girlfriend or something. Although in that case he’d probably be in jail. Still, it had to be pretty bad, right? He looked so nervous. “Hit me.”

He took a deep breath. “Alright. The reason I ended up rooming with a freshman is because no one else on campus wanted to live with me, and my friends already have roommates. I emailed you early because you’d still have time to change roommates if you wanted.”

“Dude, spit it out. Seriously.”

“I’m gay,” he blurted out. Oh. Was that it? He’s gay? So what? Half the dudes I went to high school with were gay, and I told him so. “So you’re not afraid I’m gonna hit on you?”

“Well, I’m assuming you have some standards. If chicks aren’t attracted to me you probably aren’t either. Whatever, man. I really don’t care.”

He looked hugely relieved. I almost worried he was gonna start crying, but he didn’t. Thank God. I didn’t know how to handle that shit. “Oh, man. I did not expect it to be this easy. I was in the closet until last year, when some guys outed me, and now everyone knows. I figured I’d have to beg around for a single.”

“Well, it’s no problem with me. Only rule is please don’t fuck anyone when I’m here, but that would apply to ladies and, like, Fleshlights too.”

“Got it. I don’t own a Fleshlight anyway.”

“Alright.” I remembered something and smiled. “Hey, Ryan. Did you bring a microwave?”

“Uh, no.”

My smile got wider. “Then I promise we’re gonna get along just fine.”


	2. Big Nose and Bigger Mouth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, finally an update! Sorry this took so long. Hope y'all enjoy!

So as it turns out, most orientation events are only “mandatory” in the sense that they really, really want you to be there. When there are three hundred kids in a room, no one in hell is gonna call roll to make sure they all showed. I learned this by sleeping through all my “mandatory” orientation events in the morning and not hearing jack shit about it.

I managed to get my ass out of bed in enough time to get to lunch, where Ryan had promised to save me a spot. I was a little nervous, because meeting new people is a little bit fucking terrifying, but I couldn’t avoid it. Ryan sounded like he really wanted me to be there.

My dorm was, thankfully, the closest one to the dining all. It was lucky because there was no way I wouldn’t get lost otherwise; the campus wasn’t big but I’m not a goddamn homing pigeon. More like… a very small robin with no wings, and a bad sense of direction. Alright, that metaphor got away from me.

I stepped inside the dining hall and saw Ryan in the far corner, talking with a few other guys. When I was about halfway to him, he saw me, smiled, and waved me over, as if I was going somewhere else. I dropped into the vacant seat next to him, and before he could even say hello, some kid with dark curly hair pointed at me.

“Mass Effect. Nice,” he said, and I was confused until I remembered that I was wearing my N7 shirt. Technically I’d worn it as pajamas last night, but who the hell would know, right? “Ending still sucks.”

“Shut the fuck up, Michael,” said the guy next to him. He looked older, maybe a senior, with a full tattoo sleeve and a mustache that made me wish to God I could grow a proper beard. “You’re a dumbass, and stop scaring the new kid. Hey, new kid. I’m Geoff. Ryan won’t shut the hell up about you.”

Ryan actually blushed and stammered out a half-hearted defense. I was just embarrassed. Geoff seemed to notice but mostly seemed to not give a shit. “That’s Michael,” he pointed at the curly-haired kid, “and Gavin,” a blondish guy sitting next to Michael. Like, really close. Suspiciously so.

“Team Nice Dynamite, both of us,” Gavin said, and holy fuck, the dude was British. I did not expect that.

“Team fuckin’ big nose and bigger mouth.”

“I’m not going to be offended by that. You know what they say about guys with big noses.” He did something weird with his eyebrows and Ryan groaned.

“Gavin,” he said like, I dunno, a really tired babysitter, “you can’t pull that on us. I would say we’ve all seen your dick.”

“What? You haven’t! Michael–”

“What are you talking about?” Michael said loudly. “I’ve seen your dick so many times. Don’t even fucking try this. Every damn time you go swimming with me your bathing suit comes off somehow, and then you stayed at Geoff’s over spring break…”

“The first thing you said to me when I came out was ‘do you want to see my dick?’ Answer’s still no, obviously,” Ryan provided helpfully. Fuck. What had I gotten myself into with these people?

“I’m officially starting ‘Team Gavin, Shut the Fuck Up,” Geoff said with a deep sigh. “Anyone else joining?”

Ryan and Michael both said yes. Gavin made a weird sort of yelp but shut his mouth. Geoff looked at me again. “Sorry about him. The rest of us aren’t so, uh, sexually aggressive.”

“Oh, c’mon, what about Ryan?” Gavin said, and Ryan threw up his hands.

“Yeah, alright. You once had an in-depth conversation with Michael about what, specifically, makes up the perfect vagina, but the gay guy is sexually aggressive.”

“Who’s being aggressive?” I looked up, and fuck, the facial hair was just getting more and more impressive around here. This guy was kinda on the heavy side with a thick orange beard and was holding a Taco Bell bag.

“Gavin, and don’t let him tell you differently,” Ryan said. “Ray, this is Jack. Jack, Ray, my roommate.”

“Nice beard,” I said, and he laughed.

“Nice to meet you, Ray.” He pulled a chair up to the edge of the table and unpacked his burritos. My stomach rumbled and I remembered I hadn’t eaten yet. That was a weird habit; sometimes I’d just forget to eat, and then sometimes I’d be back in the kitchen every hour seeking new and exciting culinary adventures. Completely unrelated to that, you can’t combine Nutella and Hot Pockets without puking. “Freshman, huh? What are you studying? Or do you not know yet?”

“Yeah, not totally sure, but, uh, I’m thinking of something to do with computers? I dunno, I just really like video games.”

“Oh, nice. You’ll fit in real well with us, then.” He smiled. “Hey, Geoff, Kerry out on business?”

“Yeah, should be back by dinner, though. Michael, is Lindsay with him?”

“Nah, not this time. Sick. I should probably go check on her, actually.” He stood up and brushed sandwich crumbs from his lap. “Nice to meet you, new kid.”

“Uh, you too.”

Ryan looked up at the clock by the door as Michael left. “Oh, lunch is about to end. Ray, did you eat yet?”

“Shit, no. Uh, lemme just… Be right back.” I jumped up and got in line to grab a sandwich just before lunch ended, and I’d already eaten half of it by the time I sat down again. Gavin and Geoff were in deep conversation about Minecraft, it sounded like, so I settled in next to Ryan again and listened to him argue with Jack about cigarette prices. Weird, I didn’t think Ryan would be the kind of guy to smoke.

A lot of other people would probably think it was weird to just sit and listen to other people having conversations rather than talking, but I didn’t. First of all, who the fuck cares what other people think, and second, well, I didn’t know these people. I only knew their names and maybe what Geoff was studying. I wasn’t really the kind of person to spend a lot of time talking in groups anyway, let alone when I didn’t know anybody. So I was fine just sitting and listening.

From what I could tell, Geoff was kind of the leader of the group, while Gavin was blunt and outspoken but pretty good-natured. Jack seemed shy. Ryan seemed very smart and smiled a lot. After about twenty minutes, Geoff ruffled up his hair. “Alright, losers, I’m out. See you guys ‘round.” He gathered up his shit, but tripped over Gavin’s chair and dropped most of it.

I jumped up to help him and as I picked up some of his papers, I noticed that they all had some sort of green star symbol at the bottom along with the words “Fake AH Crew”. He snatched them back from me before I could read anything else and the look on his face was almost angry. “Don’t read my personal shit, dude,” he said, and the words were a lot more casual than his tone.

“Oh, uh, sorry. I didn’t see anything.” Technically that was true; a star and something about a Crew? What the fuck was that? I couldn’t do shit with that information.

He squinted at me, figured I was telling the truth, and nodded once. Before I could really figure out what was going on, he was out, and I decided I should do some orientation thing before the end of the day. “See ya later, Ryan, Jack.”

According to the schedule I’d shoved in my pocket that morning, the next event was in the auditorium, and boy was it an adventure getting there. I had to stop and keep looking at a map of campus, and eventually I just asked this cute blonde chick. After she pointed me in the right direction, I hesitated. “Hey, do you know… Anything about something called the Fake AH Crew?”

“A little, I guess. Y’know how we can’t smoke on campus?”

“I do now.”

“Alright, well, they’re kind of a black market. No one knows who runs it, but you need alcohol, cigs, whatever, they’re your guys. Or ladies, I guess. Like I said, no one knows who runs it.”

“Uh, alright. Good to know. Thanks. I’m Ray, by the way.”

“Barbara. I got somewhere to be, so if you don’t have anything else…?”

“I’m fine. See you around.” So Geoff was involved in a black market for the school? I mean, I guess I wasn’t surprised that we couldn’t smoke here, since it was such an upright Catholic school or whatever, not that I cared because I didn’t smoke anyway, but… Ryan too? And Jack? Probably the whole group of ‘em were in on it. I couldn’t think of why else they’d be talking about getting cigarettes.

What the hell kind of friends did I just make?


	3. Connections and Exceptions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo, this was late again. Whoops. I'll try to do better next time, but no promises. Sorry. It'll be easier when the semester is over... Anyway, hope this is alright. Enjoy!

When I got back to the room at the end of the day, Ryan was already there, typing something out on his laptop intently. He had headphones on but some of the sound leaked out anyway: “ _and I, I’ve got to have my way now, baby…_ ” I wanted to mock him mercilessly, but they I would have had to admit that I recognized the song from one random lyric, and so I decided against it. The struggle is real.

He paused the music and lowered his headphones when I spread out on my bed. “Hey, Ray. How was orientation?”

“Oh, you know. It was basically chicks just bending over backwards to give me their numbers.”

“Ah, I see. Seems like there are better things you could do with, uh, chicks if they’re bent over backwards, but then what do I know.”

“Beat the puss up? Yeah, wasn’t really up for the acrobatics at the moment.”

He smiled. He had a really nice smile. “Hope my friends didn’t scare you off too much at lunch. They can be a little much sometimes.”

“Patience of a saint, you’ve got. What’s it like riding with that crew?” I watched him closely to judge his reaction, and sure enough his eyebrows shot up. Still, the smile came back after a momentary flicker.

“Crew?”

I didn’t have the guts to ask directly. “Oh, you know. Squad, team, group of friends. Try to keep up with the lingo, old man.”

“Oh, my bad.” He relaxed visibly, and that was pretty much all the confirmation I needed. “The squad can be exhausting, but they’re great. Geoff was the one who taught me how to drive. Sure, it was only so he had a designated driver, but, well, you know.”

“Still one up on me. I can’t drive.”

“Oh, Gavin either. Y’all will be fine, everything’s within walking distance here.”

“Y’all?”

“Shut up, I’m from Georgia.”

“Georgia is, what, racists and banging your sister?”

Ryan half-laughed and half-sighed, like it was funny but he’d heard it before. “Something like that, yes. I think we prefer people remember peaches and pecan pie, but you don’t get to choose your reputation.”

I thought about the things Barbara had told me earlier, about how Ryan was part of this shady group of black market masterminds. “No, I guess you don’t,” I said.

*****

The next month was pretty easy, as far as college goes. I didn’t ask Ryan about the Fake AH Crew and he definitely didn’t volunteer any information, but I also didn’t hear about it from anyone else, so I kind of forgot about it. What I couldn’t forget about, however, was the way Ryan’s shy smile lit up a room.

Yeah, sounds pretty gay, right? That’s how it felt too, and I was not happy about it. Not that I had a problem with gay people or anything, but I was straight, I’d always been straight, I still was… So what the hell was all this about? I mean, it was just an aesthetic thing, right? It’s not that weird for a guy to acknowledge that another guy is attractive. Girls do it all the time. I totally would have been fine with that explanation– after all, since Ryan and I didn’t really leave the room, we saw a lot of each other– except…

You know, it wasn’t just the physical shit. Like, it’s easy as hell to be like “hey, bro, you’ve got real nice eyes”. Bros got to look after each other. It’s a hell of a lot harder to come to terms with… other things. Like, the face Ryan would make when I one-upped him, tight-lipped and tired-eyed. Or the fact that every day without fail he asked how it was going. Or that even though he never turned out his desk lamp and ate all the Oreos, he still had all his old papers and homework assignments saved to his computer and absolutely let me cheat on _my_ homework and papers using them.

See, if Ryan were a girl, I’d have been all over that since the day we met, and not just ‘cause I liked blondes, but because Ryan was… well, he didn’t treat me like a girlfriend or anything (Gavin was wrong, he was totally subtle about his sexuality), but he treated me the way I’d want a girlfriend to treat me, I guess. It was confusing as fuck.

So I kind of brought it up on a Saturday night, sometime in early October. He’d been out all day with Geoff, and I’d slept til four in the afternoon and eaten a whole pizza. Priorities. “Hey, dude. Is it possible for guys to be, like, straight but with… an exception?”

“Oh, Christ.” He shrugged out of his sweatshirt and opened his laptop. “Not you too.”

“Alright, rude.” I was kind of surprised by this. Did he get this a lot?

“Just please tell me it’s not Gavin.”

“What? Gavin?” What about Gavin? “No! I’m not even talking about me, but no, I’m not interested in Gavin.”

He gave me a quick look that said he absolutely didn’t believe me. “Alright then. Yes, it’s very possible. The technical term is ‘heteroflexible’. You know, straight but shit happens.”

“I’m straight, you know.”

“So’s spaghetti, until it gets hot. So what’s this about?”

I didn’t answer that. Fuck if he needed to know. “What’s all this about again? You turning heads?”

“Like a car crash. No, Michael came to me last year asking these same sorts of questions, because he thought he had a thing for Gavin. Oh, God, that was a messy time.”

“ _Did_ he have a thing for Gavin?”

“Oh yeah. We all knew it, too. They dated for a little bit quietly, but Gavin was really paranoid that people would think he was gay, and Michael got tired of it, so he ended it and now Michael’s with Lindsay and Gavin’s with Meg.”

Wait, who? “Who the hell is Meg?”

“Oh, she doesn’t go here. Keep forgetting you’re the new kid.”

“Alright, shut it, grandpa. You want to play Monopoly with me later?”

He wrinkled his nose. “ _Monopoly_? What is this, the Great Depression? _You_ own a board game?”

“No, for the 360. I need to get all the achievements and some of them I can only do on multiplayer. Look, I can set it up and play all four human players but do you really want to sit by and watch something so pathetic?”

He sighed. “No, I guess not. I have a paper due Monday, though…”

“Yeah, and? That’s what Sundays are for. Come on, dude. R and R Connection.” I’d coined the nickname two weeks ago and it stuck.

“Fine. Fine. I’ll set it up if you grab drinks from the vending machine downstairs.” Ooh. Hard sell. I still wanted to stay somewhat in his good graces, but stairs… 

“You pay and I’ll go.”

“You drive a hard bargain, but yes, here’s my _two dollars_. Go wild. Buy yourself something nice.”

I pocketed the dollars and took the stairs two at a time, thinking about Ryan all the way. Could I be heteroflexible, or whatever it was? Probably I was just suffering from a fatal lack of being around girls who didn’t want to leave room for Jesus. Ryan was the only normal guy around here, and I saw him more than I saw anyone else. Besides, him being gay had kind of fucked him up around here. Doubt he wanted anything to do with me or any other guy until he graduated.

I convinced the bitchy vending machine to accept my wrinkled dollars and stuck the two Coke cans in the pockets of my hoodie, cause fuck if I was carrying them all the way upstairs in my bare hands. They were damn cold.

I was just about to go back up the freakin’ three flights of stairs when I saw Geoff out of the corner of my eye. He nodded at me. “Hey, Geoff. Figured you would have gone home by now.”

“Was on my way. Where’s Ryan?”

“Upstairs. You need him?”

“Nah, I’ll talk to him later.” He eyed me and I sort of froze. Geoff had really intense eyes when he didn’t look so tired. “Can you drive?”

“Uh, no…”

“Ever been arrested?”

“No… What is this–”

“Drink? Smoke?”

“No, but why–”

He smiled, sort of. It was almost predatory. I half expected him to have fangs. He held out a piece of paper with that star symbol I’d seen on my first day here. “Then how would you like to make some extra cash?”


	4. Cigars and Other Firsts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual, I'm sorry this took so long. I guess at this point we might as well expect an update schedule of once a month. I just promise I am not giving up, okay? Thanks for sticking with me. Hope you enjoy!

When Geoff finished talking to me, I dragged myself back up the stairs. I had a hell of a lot to think about; did I want to do this? Did I want to help run a black market in my free time? According to Geoff’s admittedly shady details, it wouldn’t be difficult and it wouldn’t take too much of my time… But could I do it? I’d always been the good kid. Maybe that was the best reason _to_ do it. Geoff obviously saw something in me, or maybe it was just that I was Ryan’s roommate…

Yeah, fuck, Ryan. What would he think? I mean, he was involved with the Crew (and what the hell was with that name? Fake AH Crew? Was there was a Real AH Crew?), so obviously he couldn’t be totally innocent either. Maybe I’d just be doing what he was doing, going out and getting cigarettes or something. I could do that. I looked young enough to get carded but I could do it.

Before I was totally sure how, I was back outside my own door, and I had to fumble for my keys because my hands felt kinda numb. Was I having a heart attack? That’d be rough.

“Hey, man, how long does it take to get a Coke?” Ryan asked as I shrugged out of my sweatshirt and tossed him a can.

“It’s like I’m always sayin’, once a girl gets her eyes on me…” My heart wasn’t really in the sarcasm, though, and Ryan could tell. He put down the Xbox controller and raised an eyebrow at me.

“What’s up? You seem distracted as hell.”

I handed him the paper Geoff had handed to me. I hadn’t even read it. As soon as he looked at it, he sighed, deep and low. “Alright. Seems like you have a decent reason to be distracted. This what took you so long?”

“Yeah.” _Monopoly_ was still up on the television. I noticed Ryan had let me play as the thimble.

“Did you say yes?”

Did I? Couldn’t really remember. “I think I signed up for a trial run. It’s kind of a lot to process, you know?”

“It’s easy enough, promise. Geoff comes on too strong but in a year, most of what I’ve done is cigarette runs. Nothing dangerous or anything, we’re not Robin Hood.”

“Thank God. I’d look terrible in tights.”

“But seriously. Gotta say it’s kind of a relief that I don’t have to hide this from you anymore.”

“That’s me. Always looking out for my bros.” He grinned, balled up the paper and tossed it into the trashcan.

*****

Here’s what no one will ever say about this kind of shit: being a member of a secret black market organization is about the most _boring_ thing you can do with your free time. Gotta say I thought it would be kinda like _Grand Theft Auto_ , you know, but with less killing (probably). The one time I even mentioned the word _heist_ to Geoff, he looked like he was going to smack me. The only tricks to it were making sure the local shopkeepers didn’t get suspicious of you buying large amounts of alcohol and cigarettes at once, and making sure the security guards at the gate didn’t get suspicious of you going out too late or too often. Basically it was a game of me looking as young and innocent as possible, which was why good-boy-sweater-vests Ryan and I went out most often.

Usually it was just in his car (a shitty, beat-up green Camry) into town, where we had a carefully orchestrated schedule as to what stores to hit and when, borrowed cash in hand. But once, about three weeks after Geoff first hit me up and around Halloween, we were supposed to pick up cigars– specifically, these fancy ones from a store over an hour away. We decided the best way to avoid too many questions was to leave in the evening, stay the night in some motel, and come back in the morning. Kids went out for the night all the time, but if we came back sober two hours later? Guards might start poking around.

We left around six in the evening, just as the sun was setting. The ride there was no trouble at all, with Ryan putting on the radio real quiet and me staring out the window. I wanted to be on my DS but sadly motion sickness is a killer and Ryan would have his arm elbow-deep up my ass for puking in his car. Actually, that doesn’t sound right. Scratch that.

I think somewhere along the way I drifted off because it seemed like no time at all until we reached the motel, called Columbia. Geoff had called ahead and booked us a room so I shouldered my backpack while Ryan gave the name to the redhead behind the desk. “So that’s one king, right?”

“Oh, uh, no, shouldn’t be,” Ryan stuttered, eyes flashing towards me. “Should be two queens.”

“Hm.” She furrowed her brow and looked down at her book again. “I’m sorry, we have you down for the king. I apologize for the mistake.”

“Well, can we change rooms?”

“We’re unfortunately all booked up at the moment. Busy weekend for us, you know, so close to Halloween.”

Ryan ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Ray, what do you want to do?”

I shrugged. “Take the room, man. Only one night, we’re already roommates.”

“Very good. Here’s your key, you’re room seven to the left. Sorry again.”

“No problem, ma’am,” Ryan muttered, ever the Southern belle. What were dudes called? Just gentlemen? When there a male for ‘belle’? Maybe I’d look it up later. The room was, as promised, kinda shitty, with one huge king-size bed and a tiny bathroom attached. I’d hoped for a couch or something to sleep on but no dice.

“Shit, man… This room sucks.”

“I see Geoff went all out on us… I’m sorry, Ray, I didn’t realize it–”

I shook my head and dropped my bag. “Seriously, Ryan. It’s fine. One night, right? We got this.”

We totally had this, too. We fucked around on laptops and my DS for a few hours, but we started getting ready for bed before ten because we had to be up early as hell. The shared bed thing wasn’t even that weird, because it was so huge.

“Hey Ryan?” I asked when the lights were out.

“Yep?”

“What’s it like?”

“Nuclear physics? Cheese soufflé? Gotta give me more than that.”

“You know… taking it in the ass.”

He made a choking sort of sound. “Christ, Ray… I don’t know. I’ve never done it.”

“Never? You’re a, what do you call it, a top?”

“No! I mean, kinda, but that’s not… I don’t know. You know more straight guys have tried anal than gay guys, right? Besides, I’m twenty, and I’ve only been with one guy. I’ve just never gotten around to it.”

“Oh.” I don’t know why I was disappointed. Curious, I suppose. It had to be that. “What do you do instead?”

“What do _you_ do? Foreplay is kind of the same across sexualities, far as I know. Touch each other, kiss, oral sex, you know.”

I looked over at him and he was on his side, propped up on his elbow, looking at me. His eyes reflected the streetlight outside. “Why? Why are you asking?”

I almost told him and then changed my mind. “Just curious. Night, Ryan.”

I rolled away and heard him lay back down with a sigh. “Good night, Ray.”

The next morning we got up early, close to sunrise. I was groggy as hell, half-asleep, and if I’d been more awake I might have noticed that Ryan was even quieter than usual. The job itself was easy enough; I didn’t even have to get out of the car, Ryan went into the store, turned on his charm, and came out in a few minutes with a box of cigars.

“You want to stop anywhere else before we head back?” Ryan asked, and I started to shake my head.

“Wait. Yes. Where’s the nearest Wendy’s?”

“Six a.m. Wendy’s run, huh?”

“Need red meat.” Ryan sighed– a habit of his, I was starting to notice– but agreed. He took me to the drive through and I got myself some Junior Bacon Cheeseburgers. It was extremely satisfying.

We got back to campus just after seven. Until Geoff could come by later, Ryan would keep the cigars in our room, tucked in a dresser drawer. I spread out on the bed, tired but with that shitty feeling like if I fell asleep, I’d never wake up, and that was pretty inconvenient since I had a paper to write for tomorrow. Ryan was chattering on about… uh, not totally sure. I heard the word ‘Waterloo’ but I didn’t know what else was really going on.

“Hey Ryan?” I interrupted, my head swimming with exhaustion. I was starting to get some pretty weird ideas but they seemed totally reasonable at the time.

“Yep?”

“I’ve never been kissed by a guy before.”

“Uh, that’s okay. Lotta guys haven’t kissed other guys before.”

“Would you kiss me?”

He didn’t answer, so I sat up, rubbing my eyes. He was sitting at his desk, looking at me with a look I would call ‘calculating’. “Well?”

“Thought you were straight.”

“And then you said that… spaghetti thing. I dunno, man, I’m curious.”

He stood up and sat next to me on the bed and I twisted my hands together. “You sure this is what you want? Who says I even want to kiss you?”

“C’mon. Who wouldn’t want to kiss me?” That decided it, I guess, because then his mouth was on mine, gently, very gently, like he was afraid I was going to punch him. His eyes were squeezed shut like he was in pain but he was warm and when I cupped his cheek with one hand, the hard line of his jaw grazed my palm. It wasn’t anything like kissing a girl but his hair was still soft against my fingertips and when he started to relax, I could tell how soft his lips were.

There’s only so long a kiss can go on without it being weird– or, you know, weirder than it already was– so I broke it off first, and he opened his eyes and blushed. “So how was that?” he said, voice a little husky. “How is it kissing a guy?”

“Not sure,” I said lightly. “Might need a little more data.”

He chuckled and moved in again.


	5. Friendtrains and Abominable Behaviors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOA IT'S BEEN FOREVER and I'm real sorry. I've been busy and also lazy. Updates to my life since I last posted: came home from Rome, began a new semester at college, got engaged, had an orgy. You know, the usual. Anyway, I PROMISE I will never leave an update so long again. Enjoy!

Ryan and I didn’t say anything about us. What was _us_? I didn’t even know, and God knows I didn’t want to try to explain the intricacies of whatever the hell this was to Geoff, or even worse, Gavin. We weren’t dating, I wouldn’t say, but we weren’t just friends anymore. The biggest changes were just that I stopped worrying about my sexuality (“who the hell cares” was the best label that fit) and that sometimes Ryan and I made out. Just sometimes. Usually if I was grateful to him for helping me with homework or when he could work up the courage to ask. He blushed every time. It was cute.

He was so _shy_ , even after a few weeks of us, y’know, doing whatever. Even when he started shit he always looked surprised when I kissed him back. He had this way of, like, holding back, and then I started thinking about how he’d called himself a _top_ , and since he was like eight feet tall and muscular and was probably afraid he was going to crush me with his giant hands. I thought about saying something to him about how he didn’t need to worry, I didn’t have fragile little bird bones, but I could never figure out how to say it. I accepted that he was just awkward.

About halfway through November, with like a month left in the semester (shit, it sounds like nothing at all when I think about it…), I got an email telling me I should report to the dean’s office that afternoon. “Hey. Rye-bread. Wake the hell up.”

He rolled over and groaned. “Shut up, nerd. You had me up so late last night because you wouldn’t turn the sound down on _Gears of War_ and now I have to get up because you want me to?” I gave him my best puppy face that he only saw when he cracked one eye open. “Don’t give me that face Don’t you dare–” I didn’t stop, and he groaned again. “I hate you, you know that? Fine, what do you want?”

I read him the email as he pulled himself sleepily to a sitting-up position. I noticed he’d fallen asleep shirtless again. I tried not to let it distract me. (I failed.) He looked more awake as I read, a frown pulling at his mouth. “So what d’you think? Am I fucked?”

“Could be. What did you do? Anyone suspect anything about the Crew?”

“I don’t think so. I haven’t even been out in a week. Maybe he thinks I know you’re involved?”

“You’re not going to throw me under the bus, right?”

I looked at him, head cocked. Did he really worry about that? All this time later and he still worried I’d do that to him? “Bro. Bro. What do I tell you about us?”

He sighed. “Not now, Ray, I’m tired.”

“Nope. You have to say it or I’m not leaving and then if the dean asks why I missed the meeting, I’m going to say it’s all your fault.”

Another sigh. “You say that this friend _ship_ is more like a friend _train_ and that it has no brakes.”

“Mm hm. Except I don’t call it a friend-train. What do I call it?”

He mumbled it under his breath and I was trying not to laugh from how much it was annoying him. “Louder, Ryan, I didn’t hear you.”

“The fuck train has no brakes!” he rumbled, sleep and irritation making his voice husky. I finally let myself laugh.

*****

I sat outside the dean’s office for ten minutes past our appointment time. My foot kept tapping nervously, my fingers drumming on my thigh. I tried to match them up to the tune of “Never Gonna Give You Up” but it didn’t quite work and it definitely didn’t make me less nervous. Finally the secretary called me in. “Just in there, hon.”

“Thanks,” I said quietly, and stepped into the dean’s office. He was an older guy, white, with grey hair and a neatly pressed shirt. He looked intimidating. “Uh, hello, sir.”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Narvaez. You may have a seat.” He gestured to one of the chairs across his desk and I sat, hands shaking. “Now. I understand this is your first semester here?”

“Uh, yes, sir.”

“And that you are rooming with Mr. James Haywood?”

James? Who the hell was James? “You mean Ryan?”

He made an irritated noise. “Yes. Ryan. I understand you have become close with him?”

“We’re– we’re friends, yes.”

“Then I’m sure you know it is not our policy here, when it can be avoided, to condone such behaviors.”

What was he _talking_ about? “Friendship?” I heard Ryan’s voice saying _friendtrain_ in my head.

“No. The most salacious and lascivious nature within him.”

 _Salacious_ and _lascivious_ sounded like they meant the same thing, but I didn’t know, so I didn’t correct him. I didn’t know what they meant but they didn’t sound good. “Sir?”

“Leviticus condemns such abominable behavior between men, as I am sure you are well aware, being the good Christian that I have been told you are.”

“Uh, right.” Between two men… he meant Ryan being gay. He called me here to tell me that he hated that Ryan was gay? That’s pretty gross. “But I thought… love thy neighbor?” That was the Bible, right?

He pressed his lips together. “That refers only to those who also follow the word of God.” I didn’t think so, but again, I didn’t know.

“Is Ryan being expelled?” I blurted out. Was I? I couldn’t think why else he would call me in here.

He looked so _sour_ , like an old lemon. “No. It’s unlawful on these grounds, we could be sued. However, there are those that raise concerns regarding behavior of his, and if his roommate were able to be discreet in confirming those concerns… or denying them,” he added almost as an afterthought. He wanted me to spy on Ryan so that he could get enough information on him to expel him? He definitely waited too long to ask. I would have been more likely to say yes at the beginning of the semester, although even then I would have felt bad. “I assure you, you will be well compensated.”

“You want me to spy on him! And sell his secrets? I’m sorry, sir, I can’t do that. Ryan’s my friend, and besides, I–” _I’m as guilty as he is_ , I thought to say, but nothing good could come out of me saying something like that. He was acting like it was a crime to be gay. I knew that Ryan had had troubled by people who hated him for his sexuality but I’d never seen it before. It was the ugliest thing I’d ever seen. “He’s my friend,” I said again, but quieter this time.

“Hm. I’m most disappointed in you, Mr. Narvaez. I had hoped to close up this whole ugly business as quickly as possible.” He stood and held out his hand for me to shake. “I regret to inform you that this may… damage our business relationship.”

“You’re the _dean_! Are you threatening me?”

“Threatening you, oh no no. Of course not. I’m merely relaying to you the consequences of finding oneself with troublesome companions. My generous offer won’t come again.”

I didn’t take his hand. His personality was so slimy, his palms looked like they would be too. I also didn’t want him to know how bad my hands were still shaking. “I’m– I’m not going to be anyone’s Judas,” I said, hoping that was the right name, and then left just as nervous as I’d arrived, sure he was going to call me back or call security or something. He didn’t, though, and left me free to go.

My head was still swimming as I left the dean’s office. The air was cool, the leaves were mostly gone from the trees and the seasons were stuck at this weird half-point between one thing or the other; autumn or winter? Red leaves or brown? Blue sky or grey? Ray or Ryan?

That was the choice I was being asked to make, wasn’t it? Did I love myself more than I loved Ryan? Not that I _loved_ him, not really, not yet, but I could feel it there in my heart, like a possibility. Like an unpopped popcorn kernel. Man, I’m hungry.

On my way back to my dorm, hands shoved deep in my pockets to keep them warm, I ran into Michael, Gavin, and Lindsay, who were having some outdoor picnic. “Aren’t you cold?” I called to them, and Lindsay waved me over.

“Nah,” she said, laughing. I noticed though that _she_ had Michael’s sweatshirt, and he didn’t look like he agreed with her statement all that much. “We saw you coming from the dean’s office? What did you do?”

“Well, now I’m in trouble for refusing to give the dean enough dirt on Ryan to get him expelled, because he hates him for being gay.”

Gavin sat up, frowning. “Absolute _wanker_ , he is. He dragged us in when Ryan first came out for pretty much the same reason. What a prick.”

Michael couldn’t find fault with anything Gavin said for once and nodded in agreement. “Does Ryan know?”

“I haven’t told him yet. I don’t know if I should tell him,” I admitted. He’d hate hearing it but he should know, right? “Did you all tell him before?”

They all nodded. “Geoff told him, I think,” Michael said. “We were all there, though. Poor guy looked crushed. He looks tough, y’know, like you don’t want to fuck with him, but he’s a softie at heart. Hell, Geoff loves him because he scares away anyone who’d want to fuck with the Crew but he’s too nice to actually do anything. You’d better tell him, Ray, he should know. Want us there?”

 _Yes_ , I wanted to say, but I made myself shake my head. “Nah. He’s my roommate, I should do it. Better go now before I lose my courage. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

“Sure. See you at dinner?”

“Yeah. Bye, guys.” I walked as fast as I felt like to get back to the dorm and took my sweet-ass time going up the stairs, because fuck the stairs. It took three tries to unlock the door because my key kept slipping.

Ryan was in bed reading when I came in with his old-man reading glasses on. He’d put a shirt on by this point. I sighed, kicked off my shoes, and lay down beside him. “Guess it didn’t go well, then?” he asked, putting his book and his glasses on his dresser and wrapping an arm around me.

“You could say that.” He’d showered and the smell of his shampoo was nice and, by this point, familiar. His body was warm and surprisingly soft, and at the risk of sounding like the biggest bitch on the planet, he felt like home. “Ryan my boy, stay with me here for the afternoon and I’ll tell you all about it.”


	6. Domesticity and Game-Changers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, it's been two months. And this chapter is shorter than usual. And it ends on a cliffhanger. And not much happens. Sure glad you started reading this fic, huh! Anyway it's summer now and I have no job or school or life, so I PROMISE sooner updates. I really do. Enjoy!

I woke up on the Saturday after that, as I had every morning since then, exhausted. I’d have worried I was getting sick– well, not worried, more like used it as an excuse to bail on class– except that I was way too aware of _why_ I was exhausted, and that reason was Ryan fuckin’ Haywood.

The dumb idiot was so grateful that I didn’t sell him out to the dean, even though, like, what was there to sell out? What, did he cheat on a single test freshman year? Dude was way smart and nice, he didn’t fuck things up on the regular. Anyway he was so damn grateful that he couldn’t exactly put it into words, so he put it into physical affection instead, and every night when he finished studying for finals (this early!) he’d get into bed with me and kiss my neck until I put down the remote or controller or whatever else I was holding (rest assured it was never homework). His beard grew fast so by midnight he’d always have stubble that dragged across the thin skin of my throat and it… well, damn. He always pulled back a little to make sure I said yes, and every night I did. I knew I’d be tired in the morning, but that was Future Ray’s problem. And what has that asshole ever done for me? Nothing, that’s what.

The sun was coming in through blinds that weren’t nearly thick enough to keep it out, and for that matter, fuck the sun. I rolled onto my stomach and buried my face into the pillow, but my shirt rode up and I remembered Ryan’s hands shoving it up last night, broad, gentle hands teasing at my stomach and the zipper of my jeans. I groaned; all I wanted was to go back to sleep, not remember my evening of debauchery.

I turned my head to see if Ryan was awake yet, and he must have been because his bed was empty and neatly made. Why did he get up so early? It was a weekend, and anyway, barely ten in the morning, according to the clock on his bedside table. Practically daybreak.

I groaned again and dragged my sorry ass out of bed. I already knew I wasn’t gonna fall asleep again, so I might as well, like… shower and put on a different shirt. Maybe that would tire me out enough that I could nap. I grabbed my towel and shower caddy and, yawning, headed into the bathroom.

Now, the thing about this little square of campus is that because so few people live on each floor, they have two one-person bathrooms instead of a bigger communal bathroom. Stupid, I know. Easier to jack it in the shower, though. The door was shut, but not locked, so I pushed it open… and of course someone was in there.

First of all, lock the goddamn door if you’re in there. Second… okay, there is no second. The door should be locked. We met eyes in the mirror and through a stroke of luck it was only Ryan, a towel wrapped around his waist and shaving cream smeared over his chin, razor frozen halfway to his face. “Oh,” he said.

“Oh,” I repeated, mockingly. “Lock the door next time, asshole.”

“Someone’s grouchy today.” He broke our gaze and went back to shaving, focusing intently on his reflection. “You tired?”

“Yeah. I wonder why that would be?” I turned on the shower and fiddled with the piece-of-shit knobs to try and get something approaching heat. “Could it be the horny asshole climbing all over me?”

“Oh, like you were–” As he spoke, he’d turned to face me, but when he actually got a good look at me he stopped dead. “Shit, Ray, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? What for?” He gestured to my neck, like maybe I’d grown a tarantula there or something. I craned to look at the mirror over his shoulder and saw a bruise blossoming at the base of my throat, ugly and purple. “Oh, you son of a–”

“Listen, I didn’t mean to!” Obviously. He hated to think he was hurting me and he was blushing. “And anyway, I seem to remember I was biting your neck and _you_ asked me to do it harder.”

_Damn_. He was right, that sounded familiar to me too. Not that I was going to just let him get away with it, of course. “Right, but have you considered: suck my dick?”

He shook his head and sighed, turning back to the mirror to keep shaving. “Yeah, well, ask real nice tonight and we’ll see.”

He wasn’t looking at me anymore so I undressed quickly and jumped in the shower (still not hot), and so luckily he didn’t see the way I shivered when he said that. I hadn’t meant it as an _invitation_ , just an insult, but now that it was out there… well. Ryan had a nice mouth, soft and full, and he was a great kisser. I remembered what he’d said that night at the motel near Halloween– he’d never fucked a guy, just oral. So he was probably pretty good at it.

Before I’d totally noticed, my hand had slid around to my dick, which was, as (I hated to admit) it usually was around Ryan these days, hard as fuck. Could Ryan hear me? I’d never been, like, particularly loud when I jerked off, but he was still out there shaving. Would he know I was thinking about him? He couldn’t possibly know, right? He couldn’t read minds. But what if he could?

It didn’t stop me, though, in the end, because _I’m_ the horny asshole and Ryan was out there being all shirtless and sexy and listen, I’d never gotten a blowjob before and the thought of it was… pretty great. My hips rolled, my mouth fell open, one hand worked my dick and the other touched the mark Ryan had left me last night. God, wouldn’t he be pretty on his knees with those big blue eyes looking up at me? With my hand wound in his blonde hair, with his skilled mouth around my dick?

I didn’t scream when I came, or anything, but my eyes squeezed shut and I did gasp, loud enough that if Ryan were still out there, he’d have heard me, but I wasn’t sure if he was. I didn’t remember hearing him leave, but then I wasn’t really paying attention to much. I took a minute to catch my breath, washed up quick, and he definitely wasn’t there by the time I stepped out of the shower. I brushed my teeth real quick and went back to the room. I was probably supposed to feel shame or something for wanting to bang my roommate so bad, or for jerking off while thinking about him. But Ryan must jerk off too, and must have thought about me at least once, right? I’m not that ugly. Maybe he was too nice to jack it. He sure seemed like it sometimes.

He was already dressed when I got back to the room, but was nice enough to look away when I grabbed my boxers and jeans. “Bro. Throw me one of your shirts, will you?”

“ _Why_? You own clothes.”

“I didn’t do my laundry yet. Come on, I’m skinny, I won’t stretch ‘em out or anything.”

He sighed and picked up a _Megaman_ shirt and tossed it at me. I didn’t catch it but it landed at my feet, so I grabbed it and slid it on. “One of these days this exchange will be equal.”

I snorted. “Yeah, if you want to stuff yourself into one of my shirts, go right the fuck ahead. You’ll look like a sausage.”

“You callin’ me fat?”

“I’m _sayin_ ’ you’ve got the shoulders of a linebacker. I’m built like an eleven year old girl.” I sat on the edge of his bed and pushed at his ribs. “Scoot over.”

“Why? You own a bed.” He was smiling, though.

“I didn’t make my bed yet. Or ever.” He moved over and let me curl up next to him… for about a half hour, before he dragged me up again for lunch. “But _Ryan_ , I’m so goddamn _lazy_.”

“I know, I know. But I’m not a mother bird, I ain’t bringin’ any worms back to the nest. And you’re too skinny to not eat lunch.”

I didn’t move. “But _Ryan_ …”

“If you don’t get up, I’m gonna have to carry you down three flights of stairs to the dining hall, and won’t that be goddamn embarrassing?”

It would be. I echoed his exasperated sigh and stood up, shoving my feet into checkerboard Vans without socks because I just did not care. “I don’t feel shame. All I feel is rage.”

He rolled his eyes. “All you get is hungry, horny, and bored, because you’re an eighteen year old boy. Come on, darlin’.”

I let him drag me downstairs because I was too focused on the term of endearment. We really were becoming a proper _couple_ , huh? Like, fake fights and stupid lovey words and banging all the time. Kind of banging. Making out and feeling each other up a bit. Like, we weren’t really a couple, but we felt very… domestic. It was nice. Made things feel almost normal.

We ran into Michael outside, who seemed to be on his way _inside_ , looking pretty pale. “Oh, thank God I found you,” he said, and he sounded so worried that Ryan’s hand tightened on my own. “Have you seen Geoff?”

“No,” Ryan said, and he must have been worried too because he’d never hold my hand outside if he could help it. “Why?”

And that was when the dining hall blew up.


	7. Confessions and Fears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea how long it's been and I don't want to know. Good news is, though, that I finally know how many chapters this diddly-darn thing will be! Roughly. Hopefully only two more chapters. That's good, huh? Sure is! Enjoy.

It was chaos. Thank God no one had been _in_ the dining hall at the time– fuck, I still got shivers thinking about what if someone from the kitchen had gone in, a janitor, whatever. No one had been hit by, like… shrapnel, or anything, which was lucky too.

That blonde chick Barbara would say later that she thought she saw red and green sparkles in the explosion, so even though none of us knew what was going on because the administration wouldn’t release any details, we could guess that it was fireworks.

I couldn’t pretend to know all the rules for campus; the handbook was like a thousand pages long, and propping up the short leg of my bed back in my dorm. But if alcohol was illegal, and smoking was extra-illegal, I hated to think how super-triple-illegal _fireworks_ would be. I didn’t even know if they were legal in this _state_ , and as far as I knew there weren’t any fireworks in the Bible, which was a sure sign that it was probably frowned upon on campus.

After the… _incident_ (as an email asked us to refer to it), Ryan tried to get Michael to tell him why he was looking for Geoff, because fuck if the timing couldn’t have been more suspicious, but he only got out “a hunch” before he ran off looking to make sure Gavin and Lindsay were okay. Ryan looked real shaken up, so I dragged him back inside, bought snacks at the vending machine (with money I stole from his wallet, but he didn’t have to know that), and took him back upstairs.

I’d seen Ryan look a lot of things, from annoyed to excited to nervous, but this was… God, it was kinda hard looking at him, to be honest. He was pale already but he got really, really white and didn’t really say anything, and that scared the shit out of me because around people he was comfortable with Ryan _never shut up_. It used to bother me before I learned to tune it out, and then after we started messing around, or whatever we were doing, I kinda _liked_ listening to him talk about whatever. So to have him not saying anything was weird and freaky and I didn’t like it at all.

“Do you remember that job Jack and I had a few weeks ago?” he said dully, after I tried and failed to convince him to eat something.

I thought back, but with my sleep schedule, individual days faded together pretty fast. “Sorry, man. I got nothing. What was it?”

“Geoff sent us out to pick up a package. I remember thinking it was weird, because he didn’t tell us who it was for, which he usually does. He also didn’t say what it was, just that we were supposed to give his name to the guy at the counter and he’d give us what we needed. We had to go across state lines, Ray.”

At first I didn’t realize what he was saying; I hadn’t been on that many jobs for the Crew, but they were usually more suspicious than they needed to be, because Geoff was cautious– which was good– but also had an inflated ego that made him want to act like fuckin’ Tony Soprano. And then it hit me, what Ryan was saying, and I felt cold, like that time I swallowed ten ice cubes on a dare. “You don’t think–”

“–It was fireworks? I don’t know, Ray. I don’t like not knowing. You know me, I don’t like to ask a lot of questions,” that was true, he figured the less he asked the less he’d have to answer, which made him feel safer, “and I trust Geoff. He taught me to drive for God’s sake. How could I think he was involved in…”

He dropped his head into his hands and I scrambled to sit next to him. I hoped to hell he wasn’t crying, cause how the fuck do you deal with that, but luckily he was just sitting there all sad. I mean, that wasn’t _lucky_ , it felt terrible to look at him like that. I kinda awkwardly slung my arm around him and he sighed, ever so slightly leaning into me. I was the new kid, the awkward video games kid, the skinny one, and Ryan was always the rock I had to lean on. Having him need me for once was a little scary.

He probably wanted me to tell him it would be okay and Geoff probably wasn’t involved and whatever, but he was right, it was sketchy, and I didn’t want to lie to him. “Do you really think Geoff was involved?”

“I don’t know… He could have been. I’ve known him for three years, he was the first person I really came out to, and then he told me _he_ was bi and _I_ was the first person _he_ came out to… I think I know him, and then things like this happen and I realize how much bigger the Crew is than me and maybe he _could_ do it, maybe he could really…”

Whoa, Ryan was starting to twist things a little differently… It was one thing to think that Geoff didn’t tell us he was getting illegal (I had to assume) fireworks for a paying customer, but Ryan seemed to be saying that Geoff himself had needed the fireworks for whatever reason. This reason, I guess. But who would blow up the _dining hall_? No one was there. It wasn’t a political thing, it was a dining hall. Was it a prank gone wrong? Geoff had been famous for pranks before making the Crew his full-time occupation, or so I’d heard. And he was a senior now, less time to get in all the last hoorahs or whatever.

It took me a second to realize Ryan was talking. “Sorry, uh, could you say that again?”

He lifted his head from his hands and looked at me. As he straightened up my arm slipped from his shoulder, and I settled for putting a hand on his thigh instead. I might have said no homo in a lighter moment, but his sad blue eyes didn’t look like he was ready for a joke. “You know we could all be fucked?”

“How?”

“If Geoff gets implicated– and I’m not saying he will be, because fuck, I don’t know if he’s even _involved_ – well, the dean’s been trying to ferret out the Fake AH Crew from the beginning. We could all be seriously fucked. I’m only here on scholarship,” he confessed. “I can’t afford to be here otherwise, if I get thrown out I don’t know how I’m supposed to get into any other school.”

Damn. I’d known he wasn’t exactly rich (but hell, neither was I), and even not counting his shitty car that was half my age at least, he’d hinted before that his family wasn’t well off, but I hadn’t really thought about how he’d been able to go to this school. Ryan was the smartest guy I knew, and he loved learning, I had no idea what he would do if he couldn’t go to college. He seemed like he really wanted to get out of the South, go somewhere that would accept his sexuality more. If he had to go home expelled…

Wait, _fuck_. I was part of the Crew. I knew Ryan would never sell me out, and Gavin probably wouldn’t either, but I didn’t know if I could count on everyone else. We were supposed to be ride together, die together, but… if it would save their own asses, would they sell me out? Would I sell them out to save my ass, or Ryan’s? I didn’t know. I didn’t like not knowing.

“But why would you automatically be, uh, implicated?” I asked. “I mean, if Geoff is. You said you’re friends, you think he’s gonna squeal?”

“No, in fact I think he’d let himself be expelled without ever saying a word about the rest of us, but… well, look at it. Geoff, in all possibility, at least bought the fireworks if not used them himself. He’s automatically considered for a player in the black market organization on campus. Someone will realize that Geoff has six friends and we’re all a tight group. The dean already hates me– everyone from you to Lindsay has told me that he’s looking for any reason to expel me. You could be implicated for being my roommate and my friend and refusing to sell me out to the dean. Michael was busted selling cigarettes last year. Nothing concrete, but the dean is judge, jury, and executioner around here. We could be _fucked_.”

He must have seen something in my face then, probably _latent panic_ that I could be expelled for something I didn’t do, for a lot of somethings I didn’t do, and he twisted on the bed to embrace me. “I’m sorry, Ray. I don’t want to scare you. I’m just… I’m worried. Even if the Crew isn’t found out, Geoff could be in very real trouble. He’s my friend. And _you_ …”

I swallowed past an annoying lump in my throat. “What about me?”

“You’re my… whatever we are. I’d hate anything to happen to you.”

That last sentence could have sounded incredibly creepy from anyone else, but Ryan said it so honestly and softly that I balled my fists in the back of his shirt and buried my face in his neck, feeling the heat of his skin against my cheek, breathing in the clean scent of him. “I don’t want anything to happen to you, either.”

“Today was supposed to be such a good day, too. I had it all planned out.”

“Had what planned out?”

He held me a little tighter. “We were going to get lunch, and I was going to convince you to come eat outside.”

“But it’s so _cold_.”

“I know. But the leaves are so pretty, and– well, I thought we could sit on that little ridge by the pond and just kind of look out over the trees, and… I was going to tell you that I love you.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that. “You were gonna tell me you love me over a tuna fish sandwich?”

“Peanut butter, at least.” I couldn’t see his smile, but I heard it in his voice all the same, and that soothed the worry in my heart just a bit. If Ryan thought things were going to be okay, then maybe they would be okay.

“Well, I–” I started, going to say the phrase back to him out of habit if nothing else, but he stopped me with a shushing sound.

“You don’t have to say it back. It’s okay. And if you want to, say it back some other time, when you don’t feel obligated to just because I said it first.”

“I don’t feel _obligated_.”

“Then think about it, at least. If… if this is the only semester I’m going to have with you, I want it to be right, you know?” There was the sadness again, the terrible sadness. “Just… please. Think about it before you say it.”

I promised that I would and didn’t tell him that hearing those three words made me feel… not even worked up or anything, no shitty butterflies, but I felt calmer, like I was hearing something out loud for the first time that I’d known all my life. It felt right. And they were the bitch kind of three words– _I love you_ , not even the three words I thought I wanted to hear from a partner, which were _I do anal_. This… maybe that made me the bitch, then. It was fine. I felt good. Or, at least, better.

Finally he let me go and I could look him in the eye, and if his were a little shinier than normal, I sure as shit didn’t say anything. “Do we have a game plan, then? For all of this?”

“Yes,” he said firmly. “Tomorrow morning we call on the other members of the Crew– probably not safe to talk to Geoff directly yet– and come up with a much better game plan then.”

“Why tomorrow?”

He lay back on the bed, and out of habit I curled up next to him. “I don’t want to go back out there,” he admitted. “I want to stay in here with you and try and pretend things are all right.”

“Hey, maybe you can finally help me get the last of those multiplayer achievements on _Monopoly_ that you bailed on months ago.”

He looked at me with the smile that crinkled up the corners of his eyes. “I don’t love you _that_ much,” he said, and I had to laugh. Maybe things would be okay after all.


	8. Cigarette Smoke and Forgiveness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a weakness for the "last night" trope. This isn't exactly that but it's close. Only one part left! Please enjoy!

We sent a message to Michael in the morning, who in turn sent word out to the rest of the Crew, and we agreed to meet out in the clearing overlooking the pond where Ryan had wanted to tell me he loved me. I put on a sweatshirt but Ryan insisted I put on a second one, because it was cold and I was skinny, whatever whatever. Truth be told I appreciated his meddling. Mopey, pessimistic Ryan was freaking me out, cause like, what was I supposed to do with that? I didn’t know how to calm him down. This was much better.

As we were getting ready to leave, I heard a notification beep on my phone. “Michael?” Ryan asked, pausing with one shoe on.

“No, email… Christ.”

“What?”

“Dean’s office. Summons for tomorrow morning at eight.” I shivered, hating the thought of going back to that office, talking to the dean again… “D’you think they know?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think we have any way of knowing.” He slid his other shoe on and checked his email quick. “Damn, I’ve got one as well. We’ll have to see if the others do, too.”

“Maybe we’re lucky. Maybe everyone at the school got one, and this is just to ferret out the truth.”

“You think the dean has time to see _the whole school_?”

“You never know, Ry. I don’t want to get upset about it before I have to. Besides.” I took his hand and squeezed it. “If you’re right, and they know, this could be the last time we all see each other. I don’t want it to be wasted on us… worrying.”

“Okay. You’re right.” He kissed me on the cheek, his skin smooth. “Will you accompany me on this joyride to Hell?”

“Rye-bread, you know I’d love to.”

He took my hand and kissed me quick, and we took the stairs two at a time down. I could see from the glint in his eyes that it was a race. I let him win. We were breathless by the time we got outside, little wisps of white puffing from our mouths and nostrils. “You look like a dragon,” I commented to Ryan, who bared his teeth in response like he was trying to look dangerous. “Okay, now you look like a baby retriever.”

“What! I’m part of a hardened criminal gang.”

“You’re an errand boy picked for the job because you’re six foot two and strong. No one wants to look you in the eyes but if they did they’d know you look like an angel.”

“Angel, huh?” His voice was softly teasing and I cursed under my breath. What a bitch thing to say. I mean, I was right, with the sun making his hair shine like gold and his blue eyes as bright as they come, but after all these months I still felt embarrassed saying so. And then I thought, well, I wasn’t lying before when I said this could be the last time we all saw each other, and if anyone got expelled it would be Ryan, and I didn’t want to spend what could be my last few days with him not telling him that he’s beautiful.

“Ryan Haywood, you are an angel. You are stunning. You are a golden god, you’ve been blessed, you have eyes like diamonds, you are gorgeous, you are a work of art, you–” By that time Ryan was blushing and laughing, and when he embraced me and swung me around I laughed too, and then he set me down and kissed me, my cheeks and the tip of my nose and my forehead and then finally my lips, soft and hard all at once, like a goodbye. “You’re a schmuck,” I whispered with laughter still at the back of my throat.

“Ah, like you’re not,” he replied, taking my hand and tugging me towards the meeting place. “No one’s ever called me stunning before.”

“Then the world has been cruel to you, my friend. Don’t you own a mirror?”

“I see a guy who can never stay clean-shaven and a hairline that means I’ll probably be bald by thirty and a nose too big for my face.”

“Your nose is too big? Alright but you’re friends with _Gavin_. Like, surely…”

Ha laughed. “Yeah, alright. Fair.”

We passed the dining hall, ringed by yellow police tape, and I saw Ryan flick his eyes away fast. I didn’t want to look, either, but somehow I couldn’t help it; the bits of wall that were still standing were ashy and black, and the air nearby still smelled of smoke. He seemed to not notice anything was different except that his grip tightened on my hand, and I was relieved when we turned our backs on it and found the clearing. There was a part of me that felt like I should have looked at what used to be our dining hall– that I needed to remind myself of what happened. But more of me didn’t like to look, and a weird part of me felt _ashamed_ , because Geoff had involved us by proxy.

The only person in the clearing when we got there was Jack, leaning up against a tree and napping, but he woke when Ryan sat cross-legged beside him. “Hey Ryan, Ray. What’s up?”

“Did you get an email about an appointment with the dean?” Ryan asked.

Jack made a face. “I was hoping it was just me and Geoff. Both of you?” We nodded. “Damn. Any idea if anyone else got one?”

“No.” I sank down next to Ryan. “But we can ask Michael when he gets here.”

“Ask Michael what?” Like some real witchcraft shit, Michael and Gavin appeared.

“If you got an email–”

Michael swore at length. “We hoped it was just us,” Gavin translated. “Kerry didn’t, you know. Lindsay either. That’s why we didn’t bring them, we didn’t want to drag them into this… mess.”

They sat in the circle we’d created, the sound of the creek burbling where it met the pond. Michael lit a cigarette and Gavin took a drag from it, the shared smoke mingling in the air like a kiss. It took another fifteen minutes of silence, kinda relaxed but kinda awkward, before Geoff showed up, shoulders hunched over in his coat, looking more tired than I’d ever seen him. “Hi,” he said quietly, and the rest of us echoed the greeting. “I’m guessing from how unhappy you all look that you got the emails?”

We nodded, and Jack explained about it being just us. Geoff dropped to join the circle and assumed a thoughtful expression. “Well,” he said finally, “I’m not sure that I can stop this train, but we’ll have to do the best we can. I won’t sell anyone out. I won’t say a damn thing. I’ll deny it all, I’ll have an alibi. I trust you all will do the same.”

There were sounds of assent in various degrees of enthusiasm. I met Ryan’s eyes and he smiled a little and a felt a bit better. There was a beat, and then Gavin cleared his throat to get our attention. “Guys, if this… I don’t like it, but if this is the last time we’re all gonna be together…” He waited, as if for any of us to tell him it wouldn’t be the last time, but none of us could bear to lie to him. Maybe it was nice of us not to give him false hope. but when I saw the way Gavin’s mouth fell, I wanted so much to tell him it wasn’t the end. Maybe I just wanted to be told that myself. When no one said anything, he continued. “Then… there’s something I want to get off my chest.”

“Go for it,” Geoff said. “Shouldn’t be any secrets at a time like this.” I heard Ryan make a noise at the back of his throat at that, but I kept my eyes on Gavin.

Gavin turned to Michael, who paused with his second cigarette almost to his lips. “Michael, I… owe you an apology. Because we– we had something good going before, only I was so worried about people thinking badly of me that I let it ruin our… whatever we were. I know you love Lindsay, and I love Meg more than anything, but… there’s always gonna be a little part of me that loves you too, and I’m sorry I didn’t realize that sooner.”

Michael took a long drag on the cigarette. “I thought when we broke up I wouldn’t forgive you,” he said slowly. “But you’re real easy to get mad at and real hard to _stay_ mad at. And if you hadn’t dumped me I wouldn’t have met Lindsay. I’ll always be curious about what we could have been but I don’t regret anything.”

“Do you forgive me, though?”

“Yeah. I forgave you a long time ago. Thanks for that, Gav.” He held out a hand that Gavin took, and it was almost cute until Jack made fake choking noises that made Geoff laugh. “Listen, Pattillo, someday someone will love you,” Michael said, and Jack stuck out his tongue at him. “Anyone else got a confession so it’s not just us?”

“I have one, but it’s a lot less gay than that,” I said, half-raising my hand. Michael nodded at me to start. “It’s not really a confession, just… thanks, guys. We may be getting fisted by the spiky hand of bureaucracy tomorrow, but until then… I’ve never really had more than a friend or two at a time, and I’ve definitely never had a Crew before. It means a lot more than I can ever say to have had even a few months to know you. We’ve had some good times. I’m gonna miss that.”

There was a beat, and then Geoff shook his head. “That wasn’t that much less gay.”

“Listen, I did the best I could.”

“Guess it’s my turn,” Geoff said with a sigh. He pulled a flash from his pocket, took a sip, and tossed it to Jack so that he could drink. “Just wanted to say I’ll miss you guys. Pretty sure I’m getting the can tomorrow but as long as I can keep y’all from getting I’ll be alright.”

“Oh, _you’ll_ be alright!” The outburst was Ryan’s, and I turned to look at him in surprise. Ryan was not an outburst kind of guy, and definitely not an angry guy. In four months I’d barely seen him get tetchy.

“Ry?” Geoff asked, confused.

“Geoff, you have _no idea_ what you’re doing to us, without even asking.”

“I told you I’ll take the fall, I’d graduate in only a few months anyway so it’s not as if I’m leaving that much–”

“You think it’s about you? Still? This isn’t only about you, it’s never been only about you! We’re the Fake AH Crew, the administration _knows_ it’s a Crew, they _know_ there’s more than one member! You might get expelled as the ringleader but they _know_ there’s more of us, and how many friends do you have, really? Jack’s fucked for being your roommate– they’ll make a case he couldn’t have not known what you were doing. Michael was busted just last year for cigarettes, you think he won’t be considered too?”

“Jack and Michael both knew–”

“Well, I _didn’t_! I don’t ask you _anything_ about what we’re doing, I let you keep your secrets, but you _promised_ I wouldn’t be hurt!”

Geoff looked as though he’d been slapped. “Ryan, you know I’d never let you–”

“You already did, didn’t you see?” He folded his arms across his chest. “Sure, there’s nothing that ties me to the Crew other than being your friend, but the dean _hates_ me, Geoff, and you _know_ that. You _know_ how he’s looking for any reason to expel me because I have the audacity to exist as a gay man on this campus. You _know_ that, he as much as told you _himself_ last semester, and he got to Ray just a month ago! Which means if you go down, I go down, and Ray goes with me, because he’s not any better loved.”

Geoff, for the first time in the entire time I’d known him, went speechless, and Ryan jumped on that. “You know I’d do anything in the world for you, Geoff. Anything you asked of me. I joined the Crew because you asked me. I go on runs that take all night because you ask me. But you told me, when you asked me, that you’d protect me, only in trying to protect me you’ve doomed me because I’m not a perfect little Catholic boy and you didn’t realize how much more vulnerable that makes me here. You didn’t tell me how much more dangerous this job is for me, and you should have.”

No one could speak. Jack took a long drink from the flask, Michael stubbed out his cigarette on the ground, and Gavin sat open-mouthed. I couldn’t have been more shocked if I’d been electrocuted. I knew Ryan was upset about this whole mess and worried about his part in it, but this was more than I’d ever expected to hear from him. Obviously Geoff felt the same, because he looked _worse_ than if Ryan had hit him. Even as I watched Ryan’s face I saw the anger drain away and guilt appeared, and I wondered if he’d been quietly suffering for years and not thought to speak before.

“You’re right,” Geoff finally said. “I– I never thought about it before, to be honest. I guess I figured, well, I’m bi and I’m doin’ alright, Ryan should be okay too, but no one outed me publicly, and…” He took a deep breath. “You’re right,” he repeated, “and I’m sorry.”

Ryan nodded and dropped his eyes to his shoes, first bit of a blush on his cheeks. “That was rude of me,” he mumbled.

“Christ, Ry, don’t be the Southern beau. You’ve known me for years, you should be able to be honest with me. I shouldn’t have… I should have thought it through more. I can’t promise anything– we’re pretty fuckin’ deep in the hole right now– but I am going to do anything I can to keep you safe. I owe you that at least.”

Ryan nodded again and I rested a hand on his knee, trying to comfort him in the only way I knew how. He settled a hand over mine, warm and soft. “You know what we need?” Jack said.

“What’s that?” Gavin said, jumping on any possible change in conversation.

“We need a fuckin’ drink.”

“Amen!” Michael called, fist in the air. “I’ve got tequila in my room.”

“Whiskey in mine,” Geoff added. “I’ll make the rounds and be back. No offense, but if this is the last day I spend with all of you, I want to be fuckin’ hammered. And if it’s the last time I get hammered on this campus, I want it to be with all of you. Sound good?”

“Course it is, mate,” Gavin answered, smile wide.

“You okay?” I whispered to Ryan, who glanced up to meet my eyes.

“Of course I’m okay,” he answered, even though he didn’t look it. “I’m with you.”


	9. Good Times and Other Lasts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this was a hell of a ride! It was pretty gosh darn fun, to be honest. I hope y'all liked it! This chapter is mostly smut, to be honest, but there are plenty of feelings too.

There’s not usually a lot of benefits to not drinking in college, but there are definitely a few. For example, not having to stagger back to your dorm drunk at four p.m. and instead laughing at your idiot friends stumbling over to puke in a trashcan. Also, on a campus where we can’t drink anyway, hiding the liquor bottles isn’t the responsibility of the non-drinker. Sure, you don’t join in the almost-poignant toast to last days with good friends, but when your roommate starts getting handsy and drags you back to your room, no need to worry about whiskey dick.

What I’m saying is that Ryan wanted to bone.

And I mean, that’s pretty obvious given my status as super-stud, but he’d always been too shy about getting physical. To be completely honest, so was I; I’d kissed a few girls, maybe touched them a little outside the shirt, and over the past few weeks, Ryan and I had gotten… well, not down and dirty, but more like smudged. So while I could trace every line of muscle on his bare chest, dicks had remained firmly out of play. Ha– firm.

But this time… well, why not? Why not take the last night I might have with him to get my ass fucked? Actually, uh, not that, probably. Dick stuff, though. Definitely would be into dick stuff.

Ryan, ever worried, kept his hands to himself from the time we left the clearing to the minute the door to our room shut behind us, and then he– well, he _pounced_. He grabbed me and pulled me hard against him, pressing sharp kisses down my neck and murmuring filth against my skin. “I want you so bad, Ray, I’ve wanted you ever since you started asking me about sex at Halloween,” he breathed.

“Those weren’t sexy questions.”

“Didn’t matter. It made me start thinking about sex around you, and then sex _with_ you…” His hands slid under my shirt and I arched my back a little, a reflex. “Do you want to? Is it okay that I’m touching you?”

He asked it with another bite to my collarbone and I swallowed back a strangled moan. “It’s okay as long as you don’t stop. And if you get that shirt off.”

He laughed and pulled away from me just long enough to tear the t-shirt over his head and toss it towards his bed. “You too, then.” I did, and when I dropped my own shirt to the floor, he bent down and kissed his way down my chest. It looked so skinny and pale next to his broad hands, and I started to apologize before he glanced up with hunger in his eyes, so raw it took my breath away.

“Always knew you’d look pretty on your knees in front of me,” I said, half joking. The other half, though… His hair was tousled from the wind, his cheeks red, his lips swollen. Christ, he was hot. I tentatively wound my hand in his hair and he seemed to like it, so I clung a little tighter, and then tighter still when his hand found its way to the crotch of my jeans, pressing to my hard dick. “God, Ryan…”

“Shh. Lemme take care of you.” He unzipped my jeans and shoved them down around my knees and my dick just fuckin’ sprung up like a goddamn Whack-a-Mole, and I was super embarrassed until I saw how fast he was breathing, how much he was still blushing. “Just beautiful.” He wrapped a hand around the base of my dick and slid his mouth down over the head slowly, slowly, but even that meager attention was driving me crazy. Listen, it’s not my fault, alright? No one but me had even touched my dick before, and it had been a stressful few days, and I was entitled to feel good, and if feeling good meant Ryan going down on me until my soul exploded through my penis, well, alright.

It felt good. Christ. How else was I supposed to describe it? Someday I would like to fuck a girl and that would feel amazing, probably, and maybe I’d fuck a guy too, but until then… Nothing had ever felt as good as this. Ryan was _experienced_ , and maybe guys are always just better at that shit ‘cause they know what feels good since they have dicks, but just… _God_. It was an embarrassingly short time later when I felt myself start to come, and I tried to warn him so he could pull away if he wanted, but he just slid his mouth down so far his nose brushed my lower stomach and made a low humming noise in his throat and that was it, I came.

The whole world went black for a second and my knees were so shaky I had to lean back against the wall. “That was amazing,” I panted.

“Mm, I’d think you never got head before,” he said, eyes sparkling.

“Well sometimes I need to take a break from constantly banging supermodels. Seriously, Ryan, you’re amazing. Wow. God.”

He stood and kissed me slow. I could taste myself on his tongue, which no lie was kinda gross, but he was a good kisser and I’d feel bad not wanting to kiss him after he just gave me the best orgasm of my life, so I sucked it up. Right after he did! Man, the Jokemaster is on a role today.

“Come to bed with me,” he said, slow and soft in a voice I didn’t recognize– a voice not as gentle and compassionate as I was used to his being, a voice more dominant, in control. He called himself a top at Halloween, sort of. It didn’t occur to me to disobey. I kicked my jeans off from around my ankles and wobbled over to my bed, Ryan tearing off his jeans and boxers and climbing on top of me.

I didn’t have the chance to get a good look at him but I reached down and for the first time touched a dick that wasn’t mine, and holy _God_. “Jesus Christ, dude, your dick is like… jumbo sized.”

Ryan sighed, hanging his head. “All I’m trying to do is have some good sex with you, the man I love, and instead every time you open your mouth it’s just like… it’s the stupidest shit I ever heard, Ray.”

“Well, you’re not wrong.” I kissed him to make up for it and kept kinda jacking him off and he seemed to like it, sighing into my mouth and pushing his hips forward a bit. This was way outside anything I’d ever done before, but it didn’t matter, you know? Ryan made it easy to be comfortable, and obviously there was some, like, post-orgasmic glowy shit going on, but even so. If I said anything that even sounded like I wasn’t totally comfortable with whatever was going on, I knew he’d stop immediately. That’s a good thing to know about a guy.

I thought it was going good ‘til he told me to stop and get up for a sec, so I did while he laid flat on the bed. It was the first time I ever saw him naked, and to be quite honest… hot damn. I mean, if I were just looking at his legs, it would be weird, but they were nice and long and it was more that they suited the rest of his body. I wouldn’t want to just look at his dick, either, but having it there, hard and heavy and brushing against his belly when he breathed, was pretty goddamn nice to look at. “C’mere,” he ordered, gesturing for me to straddle his hips. I did, settling in like I were made to fit there.

My dick was in a weird stage of being kinda-still-hard-from-before and kinda-getting-hard-again, so I was at half-mast and having my dick up against Ryan’s was… pretty nice. “Just where I wanted you,” he said, settling his hands on my bony hips and guiding me to rock against him. “This is what I meant when I was talking about not having sex but having plenty to do. Coming like this always feels so good.”

“You can come if you want,” I said quietly, as if it mattered that he had my permission.

He groaned and bucked his hips up. “God, if we had more time, there’s so much I’d teach you to do. You’d be really good at sucking cock, I bet, with those pretty lips of yours. Look, I’ve got you hard again. You want me that much?”

_You have no idea_ , I thought. I knew I wouldn’t get off again– refractory period, or whatever bullshit. Whatever this was, though, was good. I let him do what he needed to do and instead just watched the complete angelic beauty that is Ryan Haywood having an orgasm, pretty blue eyes all screwed up, mouth falling open, muscular chest rising and falling with sharp breaths. He let out a cry when he came, getting jizz mostly on his chest but some on my thigh where it was tucked to his side. I wiped it off and rubbed it on his stomach. “Ew,” he said softly.

“Listen, it’s your come. I don’t want it on _me_.”

“Alright. Fine.” He took a minute to catch his breath. “Was that good for you?”

“Uh, obviously. I got a blowjob. What about you?”

“God, yes. You really don’t know how gorgeous you are, do you, Ray?”

I blushed, unless you asked me if I blushed, then I absolutely did not because that’s not cool. “Nah, too skinny, too pale.”

“Perfect inside and out.” He sighed. “Alright. I have to go clean this up. Up.” I got up and got dressed while he wiped jizz from his chest and got dressed, too. “Well, if things go wrong, they won’t go wrong without us having, you know.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Having what?”

“Don’t make me say it.”

“You embarrassed to admit you want to bang me like a screen door in a hurricane, Rye-bread?”

“Don’t _say_ it like that.”

“Oh, do you want to say we _made love_ instead?”

He wrinkled his nose. “That sounds worse. Can’t you just say we had sex?”

“Absolutely not. Ryan, I want to make this as difficult and embarrassing as possible.” I couldn’t stop myself from smiling, though, and when he noticed, he smiled too, coming over and kissing me deep.

“Hey, if I give you two bucks,” he said when the kiss broke, “wanna run down and get me a Coke?”

“Last time this happened I accidentally joined a criminal organization.”

“That’s fine. Statistically it won’t happen again.”

He was right about that, but there was definitely an echo in the past given that Geoff showed up again, looking much more sober than he had an hour or so ago. “Hey, kid.”

_Please no_ , I couldn’t figure out how to say. “Yeah?”

“What are you gonna say to the dean tomorrow?”

Didn’t expect that question. “Dunno, haven’t really thought about it yet.” That wasn’t strictly true, but every time I thought about it I got anxious as hell, so I bottled that shit right up.

He looked at me unflinchingly with eyes as blue as Ryan’s, but much more tired. “You’ve got a few options, you know. You know you’ll be under suspicion because of Ryan and me and the fact that you wouldn’t help the dean before.”

“That part I know, trust me.”

“You could sell us out.” That surprised me right into silence. He folded his arms and leaned against the Coke machine. “If you made a bargain for you and Ryan to stay safe, you could sell out the rest of the Crew. You’d lose the rest of us, obviously, but you and Ryan would be safe. Plus, I know you think I set off the fireworks, so it wouldn’t even really be a lie.”

“Did you set them off?”

He ignored that. “Option two is selling out Ryan.” I started to protest and he held up his hand. “I know you don’t like it. I’m not saying you should. I’m just saying you _could_. You’d lose him, but you save the rest of your friends from certain expulsion. Of course, they’d never hang out with you again if they found out, but no reason they’d need to know.”

“I don’t want to sell out anyone.”

“That brings us to option three. You can give yourself up. I know, I know, you had nothing at all to do with any of this. But you’d save Ryan, and all the rest of us. No matter which option you choose, you’re saving somebody. Just depends how many you want to save.”

Why did he have to phrase it like that? It all sounded so goddamn miserable like that. I wanted to turn back time to before I even came down here, go back to Ryan and I coiled up together in the evening sun, hot and aching for each other. I was so happy ten minutes ago. “Why are you telling me all this?”

“Just preparing you. The rest of the Crew has been briefed on how to handle situations like this.”

“Which is?”

“Death before dishonor, baby. Ride together, die together. I’m no snitch and I didn’t teach my friends to be snitches.”

“But you’re telling me I’m gonna have to be a snitch.”

He shrugged. “You’re new. You’re a freshman, you’ve got a whole college career ahead of you with one smudged semester on your record.” _Smudged_ , like Ryan and I were. That connection didn’t make me feel better. “You don’t _have_ to snitch. You can keep quiet and go out with the rest of us. Or you can sacrifice one of us, or yourself, and move right along. What do you think?”

What did I _think_? What do you do when every option is equally shitty? “I don’t know. I’ll think it over.” That at least was the truth.

“Alright, well, that’s the only advice I can give.” He peeled himself from the machine. “No matter what, it was real nice knowing you, kid. You’d have made a great Crew member someday.” He walked away and I wanted to yell at him, wanted to tell him to leave me out of this, that this was all his fault and I wasn’t going to be the sacrificial lamb for him… but someone was gonna be. Ryan was gonna get the axe. Did I have to sell out Geoff or myself to keep Ryan safe? 

Or… the thought wouldn’t go away as I went back up the stairs to my room. What if I _did_ sell out Ryan? Michael and Lindsay would stay together, Geoff would graduate on time, poor little Kerry wouldn’t get dragged into something too big for him. And I wouldn’t have to go either, wouldn’t have to disappoint my mom, wouldn’t have to work my ass off to try and get into another college down the line when I only barely made it into this one. Maybe after expulsion I wouldn’t get into any other college, and then I’d have to work with no real skills. But Ryan didn’t deserve that either.

God, it was a mess, and I didn’t like it. All I wanted was to burrow up with Ryan and watch the loudest, most explosion-y movie I could find and pretend the outside world didn’t exist, so when I got back to the room and tossed him his Coke, that’s exactly what I did, curling up under my covers and making him curl up with me. That’s how we fell asleep, hours later– with me in his arms, wondering all the time if the fragile love we had now would exist the next morning.

At eight a.m. sharp, the entire Crew was clustered in the dean’s outer office in chairs that weren’t nearly as comfortable as they looked. Michael had a cluster of hickeys that his shirt collar didn’t quite hide, and I knew he’d celebrated his possible last night the way Ryan and I had. The wait was awful, probably not as long as it felt, but long enough that my palms were sweaty, knees weak, arms spaghetti. I took deep breaths and wished to God I could hold Ryan’s hand. I wished he would tell me it would all be okay, but I knew it would be a lie and he knew it too.

I’d thought a lot about what Geoff had said and still hadn’t come to a conclusion. Who can really decide that? Who can–

“Ray Narvaez?” the secretary called out. “The dean wants to see you.”

I swallowed and stood on shaking legs. Actually my whole damn body was shaking. That was probably kind of bad. I hesitated just before looking around the outer office, at the sleepless bruises under Geoff’s eyes, at Jack worrying at the hem of his shirt, at Michael and Gavin glancing at each others looking for easy comfort that didn’t exist, at the ghost of Ryan’s smile struggling to emerge under a blanket of fear. “Ryan,” I said, and the name tangled up in my mouth with anxiety and urgency and a thick layer of guilt, “I love you.”

His relieved smile, the way the light came back into his eyes, the way he returned the sentiment gave me the courage I needed to face the dean’s office, even as shame and sin beat down on my heart. I knew what I had to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, if you liked this fic, consider commenting what you liked about it! Or constructive criticism, or whatever. I'd love to hear from y'all!


End file.
